


My Cute-Cumber

by Tokine



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Super Smash Brothers
Genre: M/M, Vegetables, a couple of references to "eggplants", farm stand au, is this an indie movie, not necessarily in reference to the vegetable, perhaps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 05:56:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4613760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tokine/pseuds/Tokine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which this is probably an indie movie plot and Ike finds more than eggplant at his local farm stand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Cute-Cumber

"Sorry, where's the eggplant?" Ike grunts, because he really doesn't want to be doing the grocery shopping right now when there's jousting tournaments on and a soufflé to be made.

"Ah, it's right this way if you'd follow me," And wow does Ike wake up and smell the coffee and notice probably the most beautiful boy he's ever seen in his life is leading him on this nutritious journey. Belatedly, as he scans the boy up and down, he realizes he's found the eggplant he wants and conveniently it's on the internal end of those nylon shorts and really what Ike needs to do now is focus. He murmurs his thanks and does his best not to stare at what will be the inspiration for his eggplant Parmesan he'll spend the next three hours perfecting, jousting tournaments and soufflé all but vanished from his mind. "Come back soon!" The boy calls out, and Ike knows that it's probably just something cashiers have to say but it still makes his heart shudder in response. Ike's fingernails catch intermittently in the plastic as he considers his purchases- three regular, two Italian, and two Chinese eggplants- "Seven eggplants! And all of them picked to be perfectly ripe for usage tonight. You sure do know your vegetables!"- and the boy's words kept repeating over and over in his head. He would be back again, that was for sure. But for now, he had some cooking to do.

 

The next time Ike returns, he's greeted by a rather ominous thud and a whisper of a word not used in polite society. Scooping up the three cantaloupes that had attempted to escape, it's thankfully clear the boy is fine, save for what will probably be a nasty bruise on his left foot. "Are you alright?" He asks, more out of courtesy than of the possibility of broken bones, and the boy sheepishly nods.

"Yes, I'm sorry, thank you so much," and the formalities and niceties are spilling out of his mouth like a customer service machine. Ike merely smiled and tipped the rouge cantaloupes into his basket, thoroughly ignoring the protests of the cashier.

"I'm blending it for a recipe. I appreciate you starting the job." The cashier's face is pursed like he doubts Ike's story, but concedes nonetheless.

"Tell me if you need help finding anything then." And he's gone with a slam of the freezer door closing, leaving Ike to his shopping. At the register, the girl is very apologetic, charging half price and attempting to insist Ike picks himself better ones.

"Marth!" She screeches, "I didn't know Zelda had to make it a rule to not throw cantaloupes at customers!"

"Shut it Peach," came the muffled reply, matching the disgruntled cry pitch for pitch. "We'll see who sorts the fricken slimy spinach the next time someone doesn't want to ruin her nails." Ike corrects his brain to rename the image he sees come flying out of the walk in freezer wielding a box lid of green beans as Marth, and watches in horror once again as the boy fumbles with the lid when he sees his cantaloupe savior is still here. Ike doesn't realize he's staring until Peach's voice startles him again, and it's a sudden realization as he counts out dimes that he'd pick up a thousand bruised cantaloupes if it meant he could learn more about this intriguing Marth.

"Thank you, come back again!" They chorus as he walks out the door with a slight wave and it's with no small amount of disgust Ike realizes he's looking forward to doing grocery shopping again.

 

“You know, staring intently at a tomato doesn’t ripen it. Usually that just takes a couple days, but if you really want it done quickly you can put a banana beside it and that’ll speed up the process.” Ike’s jolted out of his thoughts, he didn’t even realize Marth was standing right beside him! Attempting to school his expression into something a little less frightening than his thinking face and casually raising his basket to cover his shirt (it was from freshman year of high school, of all pimply horrors, and for a video game club!), Ike was more than a little caught off guard.

“I know this is going to sound kind of weird but I was actually visualizing my spice rack at home to see if I had what I needed for dinner tonight. I didn’t even realize I was intimidating your fruits; I apologize.” Ike set the tomato down carefully, all thoughts of cavatappi and lasagna gone from his mind when it actually registered Marth actually initiated conversation with him for once. And making Marth laugh was icing for the top of that particular cake. Score one for Ike!

“Well, the produce doesn’t have to worry any longer. I’ll protect it from all the scary muscle men who occasionally get lost in thought while perusing them.” Marth plucked the tomato out of Ike’s hand, caressing it and finding it a place in the pile as he spoke. Ike watched on, amused and more than pleased at Marth’s change from genteel to playful. Engaging in his first actual banter with Marth should have been stressful, and indeed his heart was pounding, but it was also very comfortable.

“Ah, the ever valiant Hero-King Marth, ever protective of his loyal subjects.” Ike saluted the other man in false deference, barely having to imagine Marth as some kind of royalty to believe it. He certainly could exude a convincing aristocratic air.

“Come along then peasant,” Marth winked and started walking, leaving no choice but for Ike to follow. “I suppose you’re talking about dinner tonight?” Ike had to think back, thrown by the question thoroughly out of character for what Marth had constructed for himself for this banter. He nodded, unable to stop himself from peeking curiously through the divider to see where Marth had disappeared to.

“Oh, you really didn’t have to…” There’s three perfect looking tomatoes on the counter, and Ike’s pretty sure Marth went out completely out of his way to do something nice for him and if the butterflies in his stomach weren’t bouncing off the walls before, they certainly were now. He’s cut off by Marth’s look, and by the fact he’s leaning closer and really this would be too much for Ike’s heart to handle if there wasn’t a counter separating them.

“I wanted to.” And, oh, wow, he’s not quite sure when he turned into a swooning mess but Ike’s pretty sure he’s just a happy puddle of goo on the floor at this point. Indeed, Ike hadn’t even noticed how gorgeous Marth’s eyes were, and he’s leaning closer as if he’s magnetically attracted, unable to fight a world that intended for them to be together. Then there’s a crash and a bang and a curse from Zelda that Ike didn’t even realize was working the other register.

“Who let Peach drive the damn truck again? If she hit the back entrance again…” Zelda stalked off, followed by an apologetic Marth. ‘Damage control,’ Marth mouthed, and ran off before his boss could act on the murderous gleam in her eye. Well, Ike thought to himself, shit.

 

Link absolutely loves movie nights. It perfectly combines the best three things in his life: his best friend, sappy romance movies, and unhealthy snacks that are excusable for him to eat because he technically still has abs. He’s just grabbing the popcorn (buttered, salted, and topped with chocolate syrup) and for some reason the movie thinks it has to develop a backstory for the ridiculous plot, and it’s perfect time for the gossiping that always is a highlight of movie night.

“You know, your roommate has been doing the weekly shopping for a couple weeks now.” Zelda looks faux pensive, intently tapping her spoon against her cheek. The odd phenomenon has been interesting Link, so he cuts down her game pretty quickly instead of their normal banter.

“All right Zel, tell me what you know!” He punctuates the demand with a smack from the closest pillow- a dakimakura of Donghae from Super Junior, how embarrassing! (Not to mention, his gift to her after a particularly terrible breakup, after they were sufficiently intoxicated they both thought it was an excellent idea).

“I think Ike has a little crush on Marth! The past of couple of weeks, whenever he comes in, Marth oddly becomes super clumsy and he always tries to be the knight in shining armor. It’s like watching seventh graders flirt.” She threw her head back, rolling her eyes and sticking her tongue out in all dramatic disgust. Link took the opportunity to nab some of her ice cream, blinking all-too innocently as she growled her displeasure.

“Of course Ike goes for the pretty boys. And Marth’s ass.” They shared an appreciative look. It was like Marth’s only goal in life was to have hunky meathead men fall in love with him at first sight, with his butt being that perfect. It was a topic of occasional discussion, their shared joy in Zelda hiring Marth. Of course, he was very sweet and intelligent as well, and an excellent conversationalist besides. An easy hire for Zelda’s business, and she never had trouble with him not working or being on his phone during his shift. But his butt was definitely out of this world. “Obviously Ike is concerned beyond superficial things like his nice aesthetic. But he also has the emotional intelligence of a lamp.”

“And not a very bright one,” Zelda finished, nodding affirmatively with Link. “And I can’t see Marth doing something as daring as asking Ike out, his sensibilities and politeness would make any attempt too subtle and Ike won’t pick up on it, leading to Marth getting frustrated. No, this situation calls for divine interference!” She brandished the spoon with vengeance now, a stray melted drop of ice cream flying into her nose. Link wiped it off as he spoke.

“But unfortunately, that’s not going to happen and so we’re going to intervene.” Movie thoroughly forgotten (but they could quote Nicholas Sparks films anyway, and this was much more interesting), Link whipped out a notebook and a sparkle gel pen. “Let’s start planning.”

 

Ike surprises himself by offering to do the grocery shopping for Link again this week. Spending half an hour at a grocery store with poor lighting and a questionable bakery featuring items he would never allow to leave his own kitchen for sale didn't seem quite so dreadful when he could end the chore with a trip over to the farm stand where Marth worked. Meeting Link's arched brow with his best attempt at a poker face, the words sound ridiculous to himself even as he sputters them out. "Just felt like going for a drive," he grunts, and grabs his wallet before Link can start phrasing the questions clearly evident in his eyes. The trip is, as a whole, uneventful, and there's no sign of any blue haired beauties working the register. He notes with no lack of alarm the cashier is the same woman from before and she seems to know the reason for his furtive glances over her shoulder and around the aisles. Ike's stuck between asking her not to tell and knowing it's a foolish hope, knowing she'll make a bigger deal out of it if he does and maybe the incident can pass without mention.

"Come back soon!" Peach crows, and he hears the rustling of paper before the statement is followed by, "And for absolutely no reason at all, I'd recommend doing your shopping at this time next Wednesday or Friday instead!" Ike feels vaguely set up and more than vaguely upset at himself for being so transparent and acknowledges the statement with a bit more color slipping onto his cheeks and a wave.

 

Eyes narrowed, Link gets ready to move in for the kill. He recalls his training, and on tiptoe his feet carry him to the living room, where Ike will not see this coming. It hurts Link to have to do this a bit, and he really pities his roommate, but Ike had left him no choice. Brandishing his weapon, Link slunk up behind his target.

“Hello Ike. I think we need to have a conversation.” The sudden hand on his shoulder, the tone of voice, and Ike wants to drop his oatmeal (despite spending half an hour shredding cheese, chopping bacon, and frying an egg to put in said delicious bowl of oatmeal) and run, even knowing his eighty pound weight advantage over Link and that the currently threatening man is a faster runner anyway. “I see you have the grocery list.” The words are sugar sweet, punctuated by the snap snap snapping of the magnetic clip that kept the grocery list in its place on the refrigerator for most of the week. “Care to tell me why that is?” All Ike can think is, no, he’d rather not explain why that is, because he barely even accepts the reason himself. “Come on Ike, use your big boy words and explain yourself.” Ike’s still struggling to regain control of himself, let alone the conversation, and Link’s sugar sweet displeasure is only serving to throw his control even more.

“I’ve needed the extra exercise because I’ve been tasting my creations more. Plus I’m pretty particular about the best ingredients, you know that.” The words are vaguely convincing and arranged in sentence form, and Ike prides himself on the small victories in these situations. Link’s raised brow is speaking volumes to how little he buys Ike’s seemingly innocent explanation. Link’s ingredient picking had been good enough for Ike for years, and there was no way Link’s occasional inability to pick a ripe tomato had been enough to warrant Ike’s takeover of his supposed least favorite task.

“Get the grocery list.” Ike will not deny that tone of voice. Making sure to keep the hand not rifling through the stacks of paper on his desk (Link was still brandishing that magnet pretty menacingly, after all) visible, Ike handed over the requested list like a teenage boy caught with dirty magazines. “I’ll be doing the shopping today. You will stay home and think about your inability to ask nice, intelligent, single blue haired farm stand workers out.” He left Ike to close his own jaw, because really he babied the overgrown man-child sometimes. Now that phase one was done, it was time to move onto the next step.

 

“Marthy-Marth!” Link cooed as he held the younger man in a rather tight hug, making sure to ruffle the other’s hair until it was held in a disarray he deemed acceptable. “How’s your summer been?”

“Better, when I didn’t have people messing up my hair all the time.” Zelda, passing by, turned the boy to her and neatened him to her standards, always happy to lavish extra attention on Marth when he was in a huffy mood. It was just too irresistible! She supposed she was already turning into a grandmother, even being unmarried and with no children of her own. Gliding off to neaten the zucchini display, she left her adorable little boy in her best friend’s irresponsible hands.

“You know you enjoy the attention! Anyway, do you want to catch up later this week? I know this adorable little café we could go to and I could hear all about your kiddy problems and such,” Link took great relish in pinching Marth’s cheeks. They really did have such nice ruddy complexion, and Marth would be an adorable baby brother, despite the slight three year age difference between the boys that Link made sure to flaunt whenever Marth thought he was cool or proud of an age-related accomplishment (driving at eighteen and drinking twenty-one, mainly, but never at the same time). Link supposed he was getting old and Zelda was rubbing off on him.

“Ugh fine, but only because I don’t want you spending another Friday night alone. I know it must be lonely not being able to get dates or go out with friends on the weekend.” Marth smirked as he heard an ungainly snort from the zucchini display.

“So valiant, putting other’s needs before his own.” Link wiped away a tear. “We really raised our son wonderfully,” He yelled to Zelda, who sniffed and agreed as well.

“They just grow up so fast,” She lamented, slipping an arm around Marth’s waist. “We’re so proud of you dear.” Zelda gave him a quick hug before moving away again to fix other displays.

“You two are so embarrassing. But if you extended that invitation seriously, I’d be glad to go.” Ever polite, even with his vegetable parents, as they’d been so (in)accurately dubbed! Marth truly was a charmer. Link vaguely turned over the possibility in his mind of having another short conversation with Ike along the lines of “you break his heart, I break your face”, but left that decision up to Zelda if he’d go through with it or not. That was a discussion for another movie night, after they’d finally went out on a date.

“Of course buddy. I’ll pick you up at six. Dress smart casual.” After purchasing an inordinate amount of zucchini (if just to comprise the display Zelda spent fifteen minutes contemplating and rearranging) and terrorizing the rest of Zelda’s workers along with the woman herself, Link decided it’d be best he left if he valued his intact limbs. “See you guys later! And don’t forget our plans Marth!”

“See you later old man. You’re more likely to be suffering from dementia, I should be giving you the reminders, not the other way around.” Despite the harsh words, Marth was an excellent hugger in which he knew the exact amount of force to apply. Ripping himself away from the teddy bear of a man before he got too attached and spent the rest of the day cuddling, Link poked Zelda one more time with the zucchini and ran out to his car to the delicate symphony of Zelda’s irritated screams.

 

The next time they meet, Marth isn't wearing nylon shorts and a t shirt. Thankfully for Ike, he is wearing slacks and a sweater that hugs Marth in all the ways Ike wants to hug him. He'd originally been disgruntled, always a tad upset to be leaving the kitchen at work to deal with a customer, but cooking to meet different dietary restrictions was just part of his job as head chef at the cafe he'd steadily risen through the ranks at. And if the owner said that Ike could make a new special every night provided that he occasionally went out and spoke to customers with dietary restrictions, well, that was just a small price to pay for use of an industrial kitchen and a small army of dedicated cooks. He still eventually wanted to train a sous chef just so he could send a respectable subordinate out so he could keep cooking. Fumbling with the slip of paper that only said "table seventeen- dietary concerns, thank you chef!", he wondered once again why they included table numbers for someone who never worked the floor instead of just saying "table by the second window with the purple cushions" or something more descriptive. After recalling where table seventeen was from his ever distant original training (and a confirmation from a hostess when he saw who was sitting at the table), Ike managed to find Marth and Link, who was currently sporting a shit eating grin.

"Good evening, I'm Ike Greil, the executive chef. It's a pleasure to meet you." Ike was more than pleased to watch the spark of recognition in Marth's eye, pleased his weekly visits to his place of work had not gone unnoticed.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well! I'm glad I finally had a chance to learn your name after seeing you once a week for all this time." If possible, Link's grin has grown wider at being the orchestrator of this particular little moment and reveling in the fruits of his labor. “Speaking of, I missed you this week. I suppose work must take its toll on you though!” If possible, Ike managed to look even more pleased.

“It’s my passion, but the hours are a bit ridiculous, especially when creative inspiration strikes in the middle of the night. But as for this week, this dunce decided he was going to do his part in the weekly chores and do the shopping this week. I formally apologize for any kind of lasting damage he’s left on you, Zelda, or the store. My sincerest condolences.” Link pouted under the harsh words. See if he ever delivers Marth to Ike again, wrapped up in a pretty bow and forced to interact!

“Oh, you’re so washing your own underwear this week. I know it’s technically my job but there’s no way I’m touching your boxers you’ve had since freshman year in high school if I’m being treated like this.” Ike winced under Link’s commentary- it was only one pair, and they had little hamburgers on them! He planned on replacing them, but he couldn’t find that exact print yet and it was vital they were the exact same pair.

“Oh, so you and Link are roommates? Now I feel terrible for you, I get paid to see him during work hours but you chose to live with the guy.” Link despaired internally again, his only son betraying him if only to have some kind of banter with his crush! Ah, how Marth’s rebellious phase wounded him. He only hoped Marth wasn’t showing this kind of disrespect to his mother.

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for the rest of society,” Ike swaggered a bit, his playing up his ridiculous faux valiance. “Link, just get the chicken special because I know about your food problems.”

“But isn’t that what we had for dinner last night?” Link’s already complaining despite the fact he had three servings last night. Shutting him up proves to be a difficult task, and it’s only after a server alerts him that Ike realizes he’s spent an entire ten minutes out of the kitchen and he has to excuse himself, much to Marth’s displeasure.

“So Marth,” Link starts, after assuring himself Ike is far enough away and his words will be out of earshot of any of the servers. “I’ve heard you’re hitting on my roommate.”

 

One of the best parts about living near the beach is that sometimes, when work is done and every squash is in place, sometimes Zelda is still full of energy and Link knows the only way she’s (and he, by extension) is going to get any sleep tonight is if they all load up into the stand’s van and go. The second best part about this, besides the fact that they’re at the beach, is that it happens often enough that Zelda’s family has a house down there just for the occasion, and while they need to bring some produce and maybe make a convenience store stop for some bread and milk, it’s still infinitely more convenient than trying to rent out hotel rooms and figure out who’s sleeping with who (which already a hot topic in the farm stand’s gossip grapevine, but despite all the discussion was never actually resolved). Link glanced down at his phone and sighed. It was midday, and while technically he was supposed to be doing some work on his car right now, clearly it was going to have to take a backseat to Zelda’s restlessness.

“I’m heading out to get some stuff for Zelda. Don’t make any plans for tonight.” He rummaged through his drawers, absentmindedly turning over thoughts of purchasing socks when he was out. It would mean he could skip laundry for another week, but also would require more time actually spent doing said clothing when he got around to it. “I think you should come with us to the shore tonight.”

“Oh, you know that I’m not that close with Zelda. I know shore nights are special for you guys and I respect that.” Ike knew Zelda was a sweet girl. He wasn’t home often when they had their hang outs, but whenever they talked (bonded over their shared complaints of Link), she was always a wonderful conversationalist. But they always seemed to run in different circles, and although she was a part of his life, he didn’t want to ruin whatever bonding happened on these mysterious shore nights.

“You visit the stand enough that you’re part of the family now. And besides, Marth will be there and maybe you’ll be able to interact like real people if neither one of you are at work when you talk.” The thought filled Ike with actual fear. When he was at work, he could always retreat back under his persona and responsibilities as chef. When a customer started chatting him up, he would always have an excuse to leave whenever he felt uncomfortable. But with Marth, he feared boring him. What if his crush figured out just how dorky and ridiculous he actually was? Maintaining some kind of professionalism or distance in between them was more comfortable, to say the very least.

Ike finds himself talked into going despite his fears that Marth will completely reject him and he’ll absolutely ruin shore night, with due credit going to Link for simply ignoring him and bribing him with the promise of not returning his car keys unless Ike went. But wouldn’t you know it, Zelda’s beach house had a fire pit and someone decided a good way to usher in the two am hour would be to seduce each other with cheesy pick up lines. It’s the kind of scene right out of an indie movie, complete with the acoustic guitar in the background being provided by Link accompanied by Zelda’s sleepy French singing. Ike’s drunk on his emotions, fueled by the other’s confidence, the early hour stealing any inhibitions, and it’s almost too easy to turn to Marth with an easy smirk, lethargically eager to put his two cents into the competition.

 

“I was just thinking Marth, if you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber.” Ike feels the command of attention he has over Marth as soon as the name is mentioned, has more than enough time to appreciate the lazy smile on his crush’s face, practically ethereal when lit by the fire’s soft glow. He can practically feel the trails Marth’s eyes follow on his body, a mischievous glance when it met his eyes, but it turned much more appreciative as they scanned, stopping on his lips and doing a slow drag over his abs before meeting his eyes again.

“Oh, you’re so sweet. It’s really a shame that I was feeling off today, but you definitely turned me on.” There’s something intoxicating about bonfires, or maybe it’s just the late hour stealing his inhibitions, because he’s never appreciated Marth’s beauty so blatantly before. “Ike?” The voice is a question, so delicately sweet and soft, but there’s an invitation in it.

“I don’t want to do this without your consent, so may I formally request to kiss you?” Ike surprised himself with the bluntness of his words, and it seemed Marth was shocked as well. He’s terrified, because they’ve been tethering on the brink of something, and quite possibly they’re past the point of no return. Ike’s already starting to draw back, berating himself, and suddenly there’s a hand on his own. “Marth, where are we going?” He sounds positively bewildered, and it’s not his fault at all. It’s not often one asks permission to kiss someone and then is dragged off by person in question who looks oddly determined to the soundtrack of Zelda’s laughter and cries of “I fucking knew it,” and the experience is clearly out of Ike’s area of expertise.

“Took you long enough,” And oh, wow, the feeling of Marth’s hands in his hair was definitely something could get used to.

“As nice as this is, why did you drag me all the way out here?” Marth had the audacity to look sheepish and wasn’t that just too cute for words considering the things he was doing with his tongue just a moment before.

“I didn’t want anyone to see when I did this.” Ike’s pretty sure he’s dead because in what world is Marth sliding down to his knees with a mischievous grin? Apparently in this wonderful, beautiful dimension but Ike can’t help but feel this is completely out of character. If anything, Marth’s smirk grew wider as he messed with something on Ike’s feet and Ike’s really quite confused and this is not at all how he expected tonight to turn out. Marth’s back on his feet again, pressing another kiss onto Ike’s cheek before grabbing his hand, whispering all the while as Ike’s being pulled back to the fire. “Don’t mind me, I just had to retie your shoes. I didn’t want you falling for anyone else.” And Ike’s laughing and Marth’s giggling a little bit too and it’s right then Ike decides that this B-rated indie film plot is what love is.

**Author's Note:**

> gay
> 
> oops this is based off a true story life is weird and involves weird pick up lines sometimes


End file.
